Wind and Waves

Waves and Wind

©2020 Ruth Borges

9"x12"

Mixed media on watercolor paper

I wanted to explore contrast and movement with a limited color palette of dark blue, blue-green and yellow-ochre. I let these flow freely in loose intuitive brushstrokes on watercolor paper, establishing light and dark areas. The colors were pleasing; the composition, hmmm… well, not so much. I set it aside and worked on other paintings. Later that week, I made a few monoprints on deli paper using a gel printing plate. I probably made about 15 of them. Out of this stash I pulled one I printed with blue-green and warm yellow tones. Those would work well with the blue and yellow-ochre abstract I had started earlier. I tore up the print into rough edged shapes, trying different arrangements as I worked to improve the composition. Adhering the torn pieces revealed interesting rock formations surrounded by a deep blue sea. Once I saw the emerging seascape, I felt the intuitive phase of flowing colors and collage pieces might have just expired.

 
At some point in the art making process, the tension between intuitive and intentional work can trip me into being too cautious. I’ll avoid taking risks even when there are still other options to explore. So, while I was excited with this painting’s new direction, I still wondered, was the intuitive phase really over or was the piece ready for a more intentional approach? I’ve learned the hard way that it’s best to wait and give myself time to figure out what the composition needs. Otherwise, it can be as when I say to God, “oh, I know where we’re going, I know just the thing to do!” But I’m not aware that I really don’t know, and I’ll proceed without giving it much thought. Impatience whispers “Are we there yet? Why is it taking you so long?” When I feel pressured to finish a painting, I begin to obsess over results instead of focusing on the process. When that happens, the solution becomes elusive and I have to walk away for a while.

After a few days it became clear it was time to take a more intentional approach. To my surprise, soon after I added a few design elements, my heart and mind agreed the painting was complete! All excited, my eyes poured over the composition, enjoying every detail. Soon I began to sense the image was all metaphor, pointing to something God wanted me to remember. I studied the composition’s colors, values, contours, shapes, and movement. I looked closely, then stepped back to view it from afar. I kept thinking, “I know you’re there!” Yet the metaphor’s meaning remained elusive. I moved on, working on other projects, and checking tasks off my long to-do list. Every so often the mystery metaphor would come to mind, nudging me to search again. However, I was too busy, and kept putting it off. Patiently, the hidden-in-plain-view metaphor kept calling. “Alright, let’s try this again”, I thought. Googling details about waves and rocks to help me connect the dots revealed nothing. Frustrated, I whispered back at the silent metaphor “Fine. Whenever you’re ready to speak, I’m all ears – and eyes”. Looking back, I think God was waiting for me to be ready enough to be still, fully present, trusting He would help me understand the mystery metaphor’s meaning: As the waves and wind shape the rock formations over a very long period of time, God’s word and His Spirit were slowly shaping me into the likeness of Christ, my Solid Rock.